


It's What Makes Us Special

by Dramaticdragon



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey
Genre: ADHD struggles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, post book 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 09:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramaticdragon/pseuds/Dramaticdragon
Summary: (Post Book 12)George and Harold are feeling a little down after the events of having their ADHD and imagination ""Cured"", and need to work together to cheer each other up.





	It's What Makes Us Special

**Author's Note:**

> I, personally, have ADHD. this fic is more or less my own way of having my two favorite (and only) ADHD characters cheer each other (and me) up. but yeah its post book 12 so it might not make sense if you didn't read them all lol.

 

            “Man… I can’t believe our parents liked the other version of us more than the _real_ us…” Harold said quietly, as he sat in the treehouse with George.

            “I know…Do you think we’d be better off with that ‘Kid-away 2000’, or whatever it was called?” George asked, unsure.

            Harold only shrugged. Of course, he _wanted_ to say, ‘no way! We’re amazing the way we are!’, but he the other half of him wasn’t so sure.

            “Well, it’s not like we can go get some more of that gas, anyway. Mr. Meaner is in jail- _again_. And he’s dumb again, too.” George said, giving up on his idea.

            “Do you think our parents will be mad that we’re back to normal?” Harold asked, scared of the answer.

            George was silent for a moment.

            They both knew their parents loved them. There was no doubt of that in their minds. And they both knew their parents had no idea they were under the influence of a hypno-gas, and not changed by themselves. So the only rational thought would be that their parents simply thought they were able to control themselves better, and maybe even learning to manage their ADHD. Their parents were proud of the other versions, which meant they loved them, and wanted them to be healthy and happy.

            But, as is the problem with many mental illnesses, you didn’t always think rationally.

            “What if we-What if we try really hard to study and focus?” Harold asked, wringing his hands.

            “But remember last time we vowed _that_? Our future selves were mean as Mr. Krupp!” George reminded.

            Harold nodded, still not completely convinced.

            “And it’s not like we don’t ever _try_ ,” George added, “We try all the time!”

            “But trying doesn’t mean anything if I’m dumb enough to fail the _fourth grade!”_ Harold yelled.

            “You aren’t dumb!” George shouted back.

            “Yes I am!” Harold cried, suddenly curling into a ball on his bean-bag chair, head between his knees, “You know I am!”

            “No, Harold!” George said back, scooting over to Harold, worried, “I know you’re _not_!”

            “But you’re just saying that because if you really tried and studied, you’d be _fine_! You could’a been in the third grade when you were in kindergarten! But I… I can’t even finish the fourth grade when I’m _in_ fourth grade…”

            George took a moment. Technically, that much _was_ true. George was ‘smart’ enough to skip a grade (or three), when he actually put his mind to it. Albeit, kindergarten wasn’t necessarily challenging. And, yes, Harold did fail the fourth grade (in the other timeline, but still).

            “But you didn’t fail! Remember! Us from a day in the future came and took those surprise test things, and we both passed, and we’re both going to fifth grade!” George said quickly.

            “I’m sure I’ll be _just fine_ in fifth grade…” Harold mumbled, hardly loud enough for George to hear.

            “I’m not too excited, either…” He nodded. Although he had the smarts to do it, George’s brain wasn’t any more willing than Harold’s.

            They sat together, Harold slowly moving to rest his head on George’s shoulder, in complete silence. When boys like them were silent for longer than two seconds, things were truly troubling.

            “Do you think we’ll ever outgrow having ADHD?” Harold finally asked, after their long silence.

            “I don’t know,” George answered honestly, “Dad has that book on ADHD, maybe that’ll know.”

            “I hope so…” Harold sighed, “I don’t wanna be dumb forever.”

            “You aren’t.” George said, but his voice was just as dead as Harold’s. He tried to deny it, but he was just as beaten up inside as Harold was.

            Harold leaned over, reaching to give George a big hug. George could hear him sniffle, and knew Harold was crying. But then again, George was pretty sure he was crying, too.

            George hugged him back, and both tried to hug away their fears.

            “You aren’t dumb, either,” Harold mumbled, finally separating.

            “You weren’t dumb in the first place,” George reminded with a sad, quiet laugh, “Remember what Dad said? We’re just extra creative.”

            “Extra _something_ ,” Harold sighed, though with far less sorrow in his voice as ealier.

            “Without people like us, there probably wouldn’t be any good jokes in the world,” George said with a faux-pride, starting to feel a little more like himself.     

            “Hah, yeah,” Harold nodded, rubbing the last bit of tears from his eyes, “’Cause people like us daydream up all the best ones.”

            “So what, we’re not _perfect little robots_ ,” George huffed, suddenly acting like the ‘other versions’ were just annoying jerks, “But I like us-us way better than them-us. We’re a _ton_ more fun.”

            “My little sister would probably miss the drawings I give her,” Harold said, trying to add to their little comfort speech.

            “Yeah!” George nodded, “ADHD is what makes us special, not bad!”

            “And not dumb!” Harold said, balling his fists to force himself to believe it.

            “And not dumb!” George nodded, and leaned over to give Harold another, much happier hug.

**Author's Note:**

> i love my ADHD boys and they love me and my ADHD too


End file.
